Supernatural s10e14 Executioner's Song - s10e15 Things They Carried
by pastann
Summary: Story form of Supernatural episodes from 10.14. Rewrite of episodes sticking relatively close to canon. Chapter 1: Thanks to NoilyPrat for beta of 10.14. Rated M for canon-level violence. General. Horror, Supernatural, Drama, Action, Comedy. Dean, Sam, Castiel, canon side characters.
1. The Executioner's Song

**S10e14 The Executioner's Song**

A tattooed man lies on his back in a jail cell, bored and listless.

A heavy-set guard walks down the lines of cells. He looks inside the window of each cell, then taps the door with his stick before moving on. "Lights out in 5," he says in a gruff voice.

"Hey, any mail?" The tattooed man sits up in his cell, calling outside to the guard.

"Ohhhh, the usual. Postcards from the death penalty folk. Proposals from your lady admirer. You said you were done with those?"

The prisoner in the cell window nods his head.

The guard turns and walks on.

"Hey, how's your wife by the way," the prisoner calls out to the back of the guard.

The guard stops, a sense of restraint in his movement. He knows what's coming from the tattooed man.

"Amanda. That's her name isn't it? You know I killed an Amanda once. Like fourth." The prisoner stuffs a piece of paper napkin inside his nose.

The guard slowly turns back to the prisoner's cell.

"I'd do your wife the same buddy," the prisoner taunts. "Only slower."

The guard shakes his head calmly. "Two weeks from Tuesday, Tommy." The guard draws a line across his neck.

"Hehah. Let's do it," Tommy snivels. "Let's do it now!"

The guard reaches a locked prison door. He nods up at a security camera and leaves.

Lights flicker. The shadow of a man appears threateningly in front of the prison door. With another flicker of light, the shape of a man reappears on the other side of the prison door.

In the security room, the man pours himself coffee, his back to the security monitors. The heavy-set guard walks into the room.

The supernatural creatures walks forward into the corridor of prison cells.

In the security room, the man asks, "Tolliver giving you the usual grief?"

"Nothing new," the heavy set guard says, placing his weapons into a locker.

Back in the prison corridor, the creature walks down the doors as the heavy-set guard had just done. Each time he touches the chains on the walls, the lights dim and go out.

Tolliver peers out his cell window.

Back in the security room, the heavy set guard complains to his coworker. "I can't wait until he's gone." The guard glances into the screen. He sees the shadow of the man-shaped figure striding down the corridor. The cameras go dark as all of the lights in the cells turn off.

Suddenly, the lights flick back on. Empty corridors are all that show up in the security monitors. The heavy set guard looks over at his buddy. The man shakes his head. The heavy-set guard shrugs a little.

Inside Tolliver's cell, the man appears.

"Who the hell are you?" Tolliver demands. "How'd you get in here?"

"I've gone by many names in this life," he replies in a calm, pleasant voice. "The father of murder is one of them."

Tolliver backs away, circling Cain.

"By the state's account, you've taken six lives yourself Tommy. Although by my count, it's nine."

Tolliver's shaky hands push a book off a battered metal fold-down desktop. "Aw, come on. You're not one of those it's not me fellows," Cain says in a falsely sympathetic voice. "Because I know you're a killer. Just like me."

Tolliver grins, showing his teeth. "Yeah," he says proudly, "I did it."

"Honesty, that's good." Cain praises him. "That's the spirit," he growls as Tolliver swings a fist at Cain. Cain catches the fist easily in one hand, twisting Tolliver's hand down with a crunching twist of torn tendons.

"Ohh," Tolliver gasps.

Cain raises his right hand, two fingers outstretched. Inexorably, Tolliver's other arm presses down. "Now I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here. Did I come to punish you? Or save you?" Cain draws a silver blade. "Well the truth is, Tommy," Cain whispers into Tommy Tolliver's ear, "I'm here to do both."

Tolliver whimpers.

Cain slips the blade through Tommy's body in an easy motion. The bloody point of the knife protrudes out from the back of Tolliver's prison shirt. A drip of blood falls down from the point of the knife. Both men disappear.

**Polunksy Unit. West Livingstone, Texas**

A suited man crouches in front of the drip of blood on the cell floor.

"Warden Ski?" Dean asks from behind the man.

"Inspectors Moore and Alder," Sam points subtly at Dean. "We spoke on the phone."

"Yeah," the warden says, "Welcome to death row. Have a look," he says, gesturing with his hand. "I think you'll be finding we're OTIG compliant." The warden walks out of the cell.

Dean gestures at Sam, in the direction of the warden, and slips the EMF reader of his coat pocket. Sam follows the warden outside. "So, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"The night Tolliver disappeared, our little ship was as tight as ever. And I got documentation to prove it." The warden speaks curtly.

Dean crouches down over the blood spot, EMF meter in hand.

"You stand by what the press is saying?" Sam asks, his body blocked the door and the warden's view into the room. "Locked cell, no security breach, no guard misconduct?" The heavy-set guard glares silently at Sam from across the hallway.

"Which press? Mainstream media is calling for my head. Said I was grossly incompetent. But the tabloids, they're saying,"

"They're saying it's supernatural." Sam interrupts, talking over the warden. "Do you believe that?" Sam asks calmly.

The warden replies evenly. "I'm saying there was some kind of magician on the block last night ... that it wasn't Tommy."

**The Security Room**

"That's right before Tolliver vanishes," the warden explains, as they watch the security videos.

"Is that a brownout?" Sam asks as he sees the lights dim.

"That was my thought," the warden nods his head at the screen, "But then …"

They watch as the figure of a man appears in the security video, lights dimming as the man passes through the corridor.

"Is that one of the guards?" Sam asks.

"Nope," replies the warden. "I don't know who he is, how he got in, or how he and Tolliver got out."

Dean's face creases in recognition. "Can you zoom in on that?"

"Why? Too dark to make out much of anything," the warden says.

"Do it," Dean says. They watch the outline of the man walk towards the cell. "Freeze it. Blow it up." Dean stares closely at the profile on the monitor. His left hand grips his right forearm where the Mark of Cain lies.

**A Room**

Castiel faces a man tied to a chair in the middle of a room. A cell phone rings. "You gonna answer that?" the man says in an annoyed voice.

"Not at this moment." Castiel says calmly.

The man's demonic black eyes look especially dark framed by his pale face and red hair. "You're wasting your time. Told you, I don't know where he is."

Castiel paces around the demon.

"The demon Cain has friends. He kills demons. Low level ones like me, we keep our distance."

"You sure about that," Castiel asks, looming over the demon. Casually, he slices the demon's arm. The knife burns a fiery trail down the demon's arm.

"Alright, alright," the demon gasps, sweating. "He's been seen the past few months, making passes through Bogsmarsh, one county over. No one knows why, what for. Like I said, we keep our distance."

Castiel lifts his angelblade to the demon's right eye. "And that's all you know?" he asks in a flat voice.

"Yes. Yes, I swear."

Castiel lowers the blade.

The demon drops his head down in relief.

With a sad look of concern, Castiel drives the angelwing into the demon's chest. Light bursts from the demon's eyes.

**Crowley's Throne Room**

"86 last quarter," a man says excitedly. "I'll only get credit for 48. And I was working with Alban on almost all those soul jobs."

In a bored voice, Crowley says, "If you don't arrive at a point within the next 10 seconds, so help me," he says while looking at his iphone.

"As a crossroads demon, I have received less credit than I am due for soul collections." The red-haired demon complains to Crowley. "My King."

"So you're looking for a promotion." Crowley says.

"No! I'm just asking …" the demon continues forcefully.

Crowley gives the demon a look.

In a meeker voice, the demon continues, "I'm merely suggesting that I get credit for the work that I did beside Alban. Equal credit for equal work."

"Fine, you can have your credit." Crowley replies.

"Thank you," the demon says.

"Oh the wee man," Rowena says, as she sits on a chair near Crowley, sewing.

"Mother, you have .. uh .. an opinion that you would like to share with the world?"

"Oh no, private thought. Nothing to do with you, or the affairs of the court." Rowena sits back. She leans forward and interjects, "It's just not what I would do."

"Oh enlighten a soul. What would you do?" Crowley smiles charmingly.

Rowena drops her eyes from the demon, working on her sewing. "This demon, he asked you to equalize credit for his and another demon's work. Split the baby if you will. Well, then I would well and truly split the baby, " she says, looking up nastily at the red-haired demon. "I'd cut the puling grub in half, literally."

Crowley looks thoughtful.

"Then I'd nail his bloody heart to the door to the court, a reminder to all not to waste the King's time." Rowena continues in a commanding voice. "Whiner's beget whiners. You can't reward behavior like that. It's why I never gave you sweeties when you asked as a child. No matter how much you cried."

Crowley's expression changes. "That's enough." Crowley says in a quiet voice.

Crowley looks over at the demon standing to his left, beside his throne.

"What will it be sir?"

Crowley leans forward, looking at the cringing red-haired demon. "Let's do … what she said."

"Wha? Nnnnnnnn," the red-haired demon stammers as two guard demons grab him. "No, no no no!" he screams.

Crowley looks over at his mother and gives a half-smile.

"That's my boy," Rowena smiles at him.

**The Impala  
**

Light flicker by the darkness as the Impala speeds down a highway.

Sam says,"I've been looking into Tommy Tolliver's history to figure out why Cain would go to the trouble of springing him."

"And?" Dean prompts.

"Still pretty unclear," Sam responds, looking at his ipad. "I found this blotter out of Orlando about his dad, Leon Tolliver. Uh, like father like son. Convicted felon, fresh warrant for assault charge. But he's gone missing." Sam turns to look at Dean. "Hasn't been seen in a week."

"You think the two are connected?" Dean asks.

"I mean, police just assumed he fled the warrant. "But if Cain took Tommy, it might not be a coincidence."

"So what, Cain's got a vendetta against the guy's family?"

Sam shrugs, making a face. "Maybe."

Dean's phone rings. "It's Cass," he says, looking at the phone. He turns on the speaker. "Hey, where you at?"

"Illinois," Cass says.

"Hey we got a lead, Cain abducted a Texas deathrow inmate named Tommy Tolliver."

In the clearing, Castiel handles a white shoe. "It's likely that he is dead."

"What?" Sam exclaims. "Why is that?"

"An educated guess. Cain has been very busy." Castiel stands up in a large clearing full of body-sized mounds.

"Okay, where are you? We're coming to you." Dean says.

Jimmy Novak's face twists into a concerned frown. "I'll call you back," Castiel says, hanging up without revealing his location. Castiel turns. Cain stands not more than 50 feet away.

"Hello, Castiel," Cain says coldly.

"What have you done?" Castiel asks quietly, his voice barely audible.

"The bodies?" Cain says evenly, glancing around the clearing. "Just cleaning up a mess I made a long time ago."

"Cain, I know what you were," Castiel's voice is tight with emotion. "But you've resisted for so long."

"What can I say. I got the taste back. With Abaddon's army gunning for me, I had to take up arms again. I _like how it feels._" Cain closes the distance towards Castiel.

"These are humans, Cain." The passion in Castiel's voice contrasts with the evenness in Cain.

"The Mark thirsts for all kinds," Cain intones calmly, crouching and picking up a dirty teddy bear from the ground.

"This is a massacre," Castiel accuses Cain.

"Yes, and soon it will be a genocide. My children, my whole poisoned issue. A lot of them out there now. Killers, fighters, thieves. Some more peaceful than others. They still carry it, a disease. If the Mark wants blood I will give it mine." Cain's deep voice rolls out the words with less venom than his words carry.

"You will kill them all? You are Adam and Eve's firstborn. Your descendants are legion." Castiel steps towards Cain.

"At most I'm culling, one in ten." Cain says.

"Of everyone?" Castiel asks.

"I've got time," Cain replies shortly. "How's Dean by the way I hear he did good. Took Abaddon down."

The look on Castiel's face tells Cain enough.

"He's not well," Cain says.

"Even with the First Blade hidden, Dean is losing his fight against the Mark. If we don't find a cure…"

"There is no cure," Cain cuts across Castiel's words. "I'm living proof of that. But don't worry about Dean. I'll get to him in due time."

The angelblade slips into Castiel's right hand.

"Sorry Castiel," Cain says, glancing at the blade. "You're not on my list." Cain disappears, leaving Castiel alone in the clearing.

**The Demon King's Castle**

Crowley and Rowena walk down a hallway. "Crowley," Rowena says. "I have wonderful little idea."

"Yes," Crowley says in a quiet voice.

"The name of it means little to you. A ranking member of the Grand Coven, the one who laid the charge against me. Really, it's a grudge, I won't deny it. She's just come to the states. And I thought if you and your Kingly beneficence would be so kind as to assist me, now would be an excellent time to strike."

Crowley looks levelly at Rowena, his expression unreadable. "Well done mother, next time you run a long con, let more than a few hours of suspicious uncharacteristic usefulness pass before making your ask."

"You think I had an ulterior motive?" Rowena asks sweetly. "That I've been manipulating you?"

"You couldn't be more transparent," Crowley says gently.

Rowena giggles, "Well, of course I was manipulating you. I am your mother after all," she says with a wide smile. "Manipulation's who we are. My wee sausage, what matters it I had a motive, we had fun today didn't we?"

"It was fine," Crowley replies levelly.

"We could have more," Rowena says coyly. "Flex our muscles in the upper world. And in the process, take out a miserable old witch who's been standing in my way for centuries. What do you say?"

Crowley turns. He walks down the hallway, away from Rowena.

**The Bunker**

Dean's cell phone rings. He checks the caller ID, then answers, "Hey Tina."

Tina breathes heavily on the other line, "Dean, I'm sorry to call you like this. You know how I said how I'm always okay? Well, I ran into some trouble," she takes a deep breath, "And I really need your help on this one buddy." Her adult words clash oddly with her light, childish voice.

"What's wrong?" Dean asks curtly.

"I was camping with a group of homeless kids in Kennewick. Couple nights ago, I find a body that looked partly eaten. I get out of town and convince the kids to come with me. Last night, we get into Spokane, check into a youth shelter." Tina's whispered voice rushes on, "This morning, one of the kids is gone and I catch a glimpse..." click.

"Tina?"

Castiel appears.

**Spokane, WA**

Tina whirls around, slipping her cell phone into a pocket.

In sharp contrast to the dorm-like surroundings, a thin man in a suit looms over Tina. "Glimpse of what, my dear?" he smiles, reaching out for her arm.

**The Bunker**

Castiel says, "I'm sorry Dean."

"It's not your fault Cass," Dean says in a low voice.

"Thank you," Sam says to Cass. "It seems to fit. There's no way to tell the relation to Cain obviously, but he's wiping out entire families, one after the other."

"So who's next, is he done with the Tollivers?" Dean asks.

"Uh, I think so. I mean, Neil didn't have any siblings, children I can see, and Tommy was never married, so I." Sam looks at the reports scrolling by. "Oh come on, dammit."

Cass walks over to look at the laptop. "What?"

"Tommy did have a son. Estranged. He lives with his mother in Ohio." Sam pulls up the birth certificate. "Uh, Austin Reynolds, 12 years old."

"Is the kid still alive?" Dean asks urgently.

"As of an hour ago," Sam says, pulling up the kid's facebook page. "Yeah, he updated his status. It's a kid, you don't think Cain would…"

"Yes, he would," Castiel interrupts in a whisper.

"There weren't only men in those graves Sam, and you heard Cass. Everyones gotta go," Dean waves his arms, then walks off.

"Where you going?" Sam asks.

Dean waves his arm at the laptop. "We know where Cain's going to be. The kid's in danger."

Cass and Sam look at Dean.

Sam says, "So what, we track him down to Ohio, and then what."

"Then I'll do what I have to do," Dean says with his usual mixture of egotism and idiocy. "I'll kill Cain."

**Dean's Room**

Sam walks through the open door into Dean's room, a look of annoyed disbelief on his face. Dean continues prepping weapons.

"When he gave me the Mark, Cain said that this day would come. That after I killed Abaddon, I would come and put him down." Dean locks a shotgun, tossing it onto his bed.

"Great, so you're taking orders from a madman." Sam says sarcastically.

"Heh," Dean grunts, "He wasn't mad then. Cain resisted the Mark for a long time. Then I came along." Dean looks up at Sam, "I sent him down this path. This is on me."

"Doesn't mean you have to be the one to go after him," Sam says, his arms out, pleading gently with Dean, his body at odds with the harsh tone of his words.

"Yes, it does," Dean answers, loading a clip into his .45. "There's only one thing that can kill him."

"The Blade," Sam says, looking away from Dean.

Castiel walks forward, entering the conversation. "Dean is right. However, Cain seemed .. confident in his ability to defeat me."

"Dean think for a minute! Even if you win, and that's a big if, you may never come back from that fight the same."

Dean looks up to face Sam. "I know," he says quietly.

**The King of Hell's Castle**

"And a demon force to get us past her security." Rowena strokes a map laid out on a table, glancing triumphantly at Crowley. "Once we're inside, well we'll take her off guard. Just look at wha I got," Rowena holds up a large piece of amber.

"Illusion-work. Smart," Crowley says tolerantly. His cell phone rings. Not Moose shows up in the caller ID. "Excuse me, be right back," Crowley walks away for some privacy.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't…"

"Cain's back." Dean's voice cuts across Crowley's. "He's gone dark and I need the Blade."

"Why would I deal with you?"

"Because you have as much reason as anyone to want Cain off the board. Cain has a kill list. And you're on it." Dean pauses to let the information sink in. "What do you say Crowley, you in?"

With a start, Crowley answers, "Yes."

"Good, I'm texting you the location." Dean hangs up.

Rowena starts speaking as Crowley hangs up the phone and turns towards her. "Once she's well flustered I've got an especially nasty spell to finish her off with."

"Mother, it's not happening."

Rowena looks up at Crowley. "What?" she says in a small voice.

"Not today." Crowley says.

"Where are you going?" Rowena asks urgently.

"Something's come up." Crowley flips open a metal lid on a table. "All of it can wait." A drawer shoots out, a wrapped bundle the size of the First Blade lies in the drawer alone.

"Is that wha I think it is?" Rowena asks shrilly.

"Not that it's any of your business." Crowley says.

"Let me guess, bringing it to the Winchester boy. You'd give that to the one person who can harness its power against you."

"We've a common enemy. A bigger threat."

"Well, if he's not a threat to your life, he's certainly a threat to your credibility." Rowena lashes at Crowley verbally.

"We're not having this conversation," Crowley says, a twisted look passing over his face.

A gate slams behind Crowley with a clash as he leaves the room.

**The Bunker**

"Dean doesn't have a chance," Sam says, turning to Castiel.

Castiel pauses. "What do you propose that we do?"

Sam and Castiel end their conversation abruptly as Dean enters the room. Dean sets his bag down on the table. "I propose that Cass and I go kill Cain, and Sam," Dean gives Sam a look, "You go help Tina."

"Couldn't you reach her?"

"No, she didn't pick up. Whatever she's worried about, she thinks it's our kind of thing."

"Is it really that important? You don't have a plan A for killing..."

"She wouldn't have called if it wasn't important." Dean says loudly. "Look, after you take care of it, Cass can zap you to us."

Castiel looks at Dean.

**Spokane, WA  
**

Sam walks into the dormitory with the slim, suited man. "Now, you're sure she wasn't here earlier? I know this is a place she was thinking of running to."

"Your daughter seems quite the charming planner," the man smiles slickly.

Sam smiles politely back. "I'm sure, Mr. Connors. She's probably using a fake name. She .. has these fantasies growing up, and with my wife leaving. It's been a hard time for her."

Heaving a sigh, Sam sits down on a bunk, looking depressed.

After a long pause, the man says, "Well ..." he looks at Sam uncooperatively.

Sam gets up. "Yeah," he says as they walk out of the shelter. "Thank you."

Outside the dorm, Sam sighs a genuine sigh of frustration. His eye falls on a boy watching the dorm from across the street.

Sam starts casually walking to the boy.

The boy stares at Sam, with a frightened look. Suddenly, he breaks and starts running.

Sam runs after the boy, "Hey, hey Jacob! Jacob do you remember me? I visited your mother once, when you were sick."

The boy looks over his shoulder, but keeps running.

Sam chases the boy into a wide alley. Cornered, Jacob turns and looks up at Sam. "You probably don't remember me," Sam gasps for breath, towering over Jacob. "You were sick when I visited last. Your mother and I were childhood friends. Look, I didn't expect to meet you here. Tina called me, but she got cut off before she could explain. Please, will you tell me what's going on?"

Jacob gives Sam a cool, assessing look. He answers, "My mom died."

"I know. I'm sorry." Sam struggles to speak normally. "I didn't find out until later what happened."

Jacob gives Sam a look. "I met Owen and Andrew in Kennewick and they've been letting me stay with them in their tent. The cops don't bother us out there and they try to protect me, like they're my brothers. Tina showed up in town and she talked them into letting her live in their tent. Next she freaks out and convinces them to leave town and come out here. I got a bad feeling in that home and snuck out." Jacob glares at Sam challengingly.

"Yeah, okay. Did you notice anything while you were watching?"

Jacob doesn't answer.

"Smell anything?" Sam suggests.

Jacob gives Sam a sharp look. "Tina and Mr. Connors, they smell bad."

"Bad how?" Sam asks.

"I don't know. The same bad," Jacob answers.

"Huh. Maybe witchcraft. Tina's under a spell," Sam explains to Jacob. "One I couldn't break at the time. She just wanted to leave and get out of town. Okay, come on." Sam says. He looks out the alley and starts walking. "You wait in my car and I'm going in for Tina and your brothers. Do you have a cell phone?" Sam asks.

**Children's Shelter, Spokane, WA**

Sam walks down a hallway, moving quickly. Sam looks around, then walks up to an office. The door is locked.

The slick man suddenly appears at Sam's side. "What ..."

"Mr Connors, Mr. Connors. Yeah, you know, we need to talk privately." Sam says aggressively. "That kid outside just old me he saw my daughter in here." Sam glances around.

Connors reaches into a pocket, "M..."

Sam slams a fist into Mr. Connors' head, then shoves the man into the wall.

"Muuurmooo.." Mr Connors continues speaking an incantation.

Sam's gun is in his hand.

_Bang._

Sam fires into the witch's chest. "Dammit," Sam swears as the witch falls bleeding to the ground.

A scream and the sound of running feet can be heard in the background.

Sam slips the gun back into his jacket and crouches down. He searches through the man's pockets, finally pulling out jangling keys.

Sam unlocks the office door and enters, closing the door behind him. The cluttered office is covered in papers. Sam searches the place. Outside, he can hear another scream and running feet. Opening a file drawer, Sam sees an altar with witch's paraphernalia and a book. Sam flips through a stack of photos are on the altar. Tina's photo is on top.

Sam takes the book, then stops at the door, listening. It's quiet outside. Sam slips open the door and swings it shut behind.

A scruffy, shabbily-dressed kid turns a corner outside in the hallway, eyes going to the body on the floor. She looks up, sees Sam and freezes.

"It's ok! I'm here for my daughter. Have you seen her?"

The kid shakes her head.

"Quickly, run before the gunman comes back!" Sam orders her.

The kid looks at Sam, then runs.

Sam races down the hall, testing the doors. Kids stare at him from the rooms.

"Dean, Dean is that you?" Sam hears a voice call out.

Sam tracks the voice down to a locked dorm room, with the window papered over. Sam fumbles with the keys.

Finally, the door clicks open. Tina looks up, "Sam! Mr. Connors is a witch!"

"I shot him. Let's go, hurry!" Sam takes her by the wrist. "We'll need to burn him."

"The whole shelter?" Tina asks in alarm.

"Yeah, maybe," Sam says as they run down some stairs.

Back at the body, Sam sloshes oil from a flask over the body, then sets it on fire.

Tina watches Sam with a strange expression on her face.

"Is there a back door to this place?"

"Yeah, over here," Tina says looking down the hall. "When I tried to leave, I couldn't walk out the door."

"Alright," Sam says, "Did Mr. Connors give you anything to wear?"

Tina holds out her arm. A plastic ID tag circles her thin wrist.

Sam draws his pocketknife and slits the tag off, tossing it onto the growing fire.

Sam enters the office, slams open the file cabinet, and grabs the stack of photos.

He tosses them onto the burning body and watches as they go up in flames. A fire alarm starts to scream and wail.

When the body looks thoroughly burned, Sam says, "Let's go."

Tina jogs ahead of him down the hallway.

They burst through double doors to a grassy space. A group of kids has clustered twenty feet away from the building, looking frightened. Sam yells, "Run, scatter! What are you doing?" The kids take off in all directions as Sam runs at them.

"Quickly!" Sam yells. He and Tina continue jogging quickly away from the building.

Crossing the greens and running through a backyard, they come out onto a residential street. The Impala is parked, with Jacob sitting in the back set. Sam and Tina scramble into the car.

Sam starts the engine and turns out onto the street. "Okay. Where do you think Owen and Andrew would hide?" Sam asks Tina.

**Outside the Barn**

The boy walks outside the barn, basketball under one arm, music blaring audibly through his earbuds. Hinges creak. A door slams. The boy pulls out his earbuds. "Someone there?" he calls out, looking around.

Cain appears before the boy. "Hello Austin."

"Who are you?" the boy asks, taken aback.

"I'm here to kill you." Cain casually draws a blade.

Castiel appears between Cain and the boy. "No you're not."

"Run!" Castiel orders the boy. The boy runs back to the door to the barn. Dean appears in the doorway, but the boy doesn't slow his run. Dean ducks out of the way as the boy runs inside.

"You can't stop me," Cain says levelly.

Castiel raises his left palm. Blue angel light shines in his eyes. Wind blows past Cain, moving his hair. The light in Cass' eyes dies.

With a simple gesture, Cain waves his blade, and Cass's angelwing flies out of his hand and onto the ground. A twist of his knife from twenty feet away, and Cass's body flies through the empty bin of a compost heap.

Inside the barn, Dean slides the doors shut. The boy backs away into the center of the barn, staring at Dean. Dean slides a rune-inscribed metal bar through the handles of the door. The barn door bangs, then the bangs stop. Cain appears behind the boy.

"Don't, please don't," the boy says.

Cain stabs. The boy disappears in purple light. "Illusion spell," Cain says.

"The real Austin is long gone," Dean says.

"18-th century magic, if I had to hazard a guess, Rune of Amaranth." Cain says lightly.

"Good eye," Crowley says as he walks out from behind a stack of hay. "Something I picked up from my mother."

"Well, I know you fear me. I can only assume you ..." Cain's foot wipes away some hay, revealing a devil's trap. "Clever. Won't hold me for long though."

"It won't need to," Dean says evenly.

Dean turns to Crowley, holding up his hand palm up, for the Blade.

Crowley holds out the Blade hilt-first, then hesitates. "What guarantee do I have that you'll give it back when you're done?"

Dean chuckles, his cheerfulness at odds with his words. "Whatever comes out of this barn, you take it out and take the Blade back yourself."

Crowley lets the hilt of the First Blade fall into Dean's hand. The Blade whines softly as Dean looks down at it.

Crowley disappears.

"Dean," Cain says. "My son, please allow me. This is the part where you tell me that it's not too late. I can lay down arms, abandon my mission. We don't have to fight." Cain draws out his words to eat up time for his Mark-enhanced demonic power to burn through the devil's trap.

"I'll spare us the formalities." Dean says. "You asked me to come and take you down after I finished Abaddon. Now here I am."

"Oh, no. When I made my bargain with Lucifer to kill Abel, I released a stain upon the earth. A stain deeper and far more lasting than mere precedence. Finally, I have a clear mind."

"Your bloodline's tainted, so you say." Dean waits at the edge of the large devil's trap.

"So I know," Cain says pleasantly. "Not all killers are my descendants and not all my descendants are killers, but enough are. Enough for me to know that extinguishing them is the least I owe this world. Can you honestly tell me that humanity's not better off with fewer Tommys and fewer Leons. Fewer yous." Cain nods at Dean.

"And what about the kid?" Dean asks harshly.

"He could go either way." Cain says. "I prefer to be thorough. How's it feel Dean, holding the Blade again?"

"It feels like a means to an end," Dean says calmly. He steps inside the trap.

"Then do it," Cain says.

Dean steps forward slowly. He swings wildly and slowly at Cain. Cain blocks Dean's attacks, toying with the human. He flicks Dean down. Dean rolls and gets up slowly. He swings at Cain again. Cain dodges easily. They grapple. Dean hits the hard floor of the barn and side rolls. Flung outside of the devil's trap, Dean gets up on his feet slowly, his body curled up against the pain. Dean moves to Cain and strikes again.

Cain grips Dean's wrists with his own, their arms crossed. "That seems a bit weaker from you than I would expect with the Blade. I think you can do better. Unless," Cain says, punching Dean. "You're holding back," he says accusingly.

"What is it Dean, do you think that if you hold back just enough, you won't succumb? That you'll leave this fight the same as you entered?" Cain holds Dean and flings him hard onto the floor outside the trap. "Look to my example, boy. There is no resisting the Mark or the Blade. There is only remission and relapse." Cain swings a fist down onto Dean.

Dean coughs, his body outside the trap. Kneeling, he looks up at Cain. "You told me that this day would come," Dean says as he gets to his feet. "You told me that I would have to kill you."

"Is that so?" Cain says coldly. He holds out his hand, and with a gesture Dean flies across the circle, crashing through an inside window. "I'm afraid you misunderstood my intentions here Dean. When your pet angel found my burial site, I thought about ending him and swatting him like a fly. But then I thought about you. Your biggest weakness. The thing I noticed the moment I met you. Your courage. Your reckless bravado."

The Blade lies half inside the devil's trap.

Cain continues speaking, "I let him go, knowing that he would report back to you. Knowing that you would bring into battle the one thing that can kill me. The one thing I truly want."

Dean leaps towards the Blade. The Blade slides across the hay on the barn floor, and stops at Cain's foot. Cain picks up the Blade. A sizzling sound comes from Cain's fist. "Oh, it's been too long." Cain closes his eyes. "That old feeling makes me wonder how I ever had the strength to resist."

Dean runs at Cain. Cain grabs Dean by the throat. "This may be hard to believe in light of what I'm about to do to you, but I care about you Dean. I truly do, but I know I'm doing you a favor. I'm saving you."

"Saving me from what?" Dean mumbles through Cain's iron grip on his throat.

"From your fate." Cain throws Dean on the ground. "Has it never occurred to you? Have you never mused upon the fact that you're living my life in reverse? My story began when I killed my brother and that's where your story inevitably will end." Dean rolls onto his back.

"No, never." Dean groans.

Cain slams his foot onto Dean's chest. "It's called the Mark of Cain for a reason. First, first you'd kill Crowley. There's be strange, mixed feelings on that one, but you'd have your reasons. You'd get it done, no remorse. And then you'd kill the angel, Castiel. Now that one, that I suspect would hurt something awful. And then!" Cain slams his body down on Dean, straddling Dean's body. "Then would come the murder you'd never survive. The one that would finally turn you into as much of a savage as me."

"No," Dean mutters, a hoarse whisper all he can manage to say.

"Your brother, Sam. The only thing standing between you and that destiny is this Blade." Cain pauses. Gently, he says, "You're welcome my son." Cain swings the unwieldy First Blade down.

Dean's sneaky fingers slip Cain's silver blade out of the scabbard. He slashes at Cain's arm. The merest touch of the archangel blade slides through Cain's arm, burning the wound closed. The hand and First Blade fall onto the barn floor. Cain grabs at the stump of his arm, whimpering. Dean grabs the First Blade and stands, slowly edging towards Cain.

"What's the matter," Cain says contemptuously.

"Tell me I don't have to do this. Tell me that you'll stop. Tell me that you can stop."

"I will never stop," Cain says calmly.

Dean circles Cain, facing his back.

Cain closes his eyes, allowing Dean to move behind him. Dean raises the Blade. He plunges it into Cain's back. Thunder rumbles.

**Outside the Barn**

Dean stumbles down the steps to the two waiting figures.

"Dean, the Blade," Crowley puts out his hand.

Dean hands the First Blade to Castiel. Cass takes the Blade and steps away from Crowley.

"You lied to me." Crowley says evenly.

"It's not the first time today. Cain's list. You weren't on it."

Crowley disappears.

Dean's battered face looks numb.

**The King of Hell's Castle**

Crowley walks into a room. His mother waits inside. "Fergus."

Crowley pours himself a drink. "I don't want to hear it. The 'I told you so.' Not now." Crowley looks at the bags at his mother's feet. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like? I'm leaving."

"Another petty manipulation." Crowley strides to his mother, his drink in one hand.

"No."

"Then what mother, what do you want from me?" Crowley roars.

"You can't understand my disappointment. Or my pride. You don't know this. But after I left you, I heard of your death. Your mortal death. I thought you were gone to me forever. Then, hundreds of years later, and thousands of miles away, I find you the King of Hell."

Crowley smiles, while Rowena weeps.

"You're not a mother. You can't know what that pride felt like. How huge it was. But can you try to imagine. Do you understand why it breaks my heart to see what a fool you are? You've got the crown, but you're not ruler. A sad, bored boy on the throne, who'll flop ass-up for the merest shred of a friendship you feel for them, but they don't feel for you." Rowena looks at Crowley. "You make me sick," she says with a curl of her lip.

Rowena stumbles as Crowley grabs her wrist. "You're their bitch." She tells Crowley. She yanks her wrist of his grasp and walks away, leaving her bags on the floor.

**The Bunker**

Dean drinks from a mug, his face and knuckles bruised and scraped. Sam pours himself coffee. "Dean um, you know, what you did back there, it was incredible. You know, if you can fight Cain without losing yourself, that's cause for hope, even without a cure."

"Yeah," Dean's lips quirk into a small smile. "Maybe," he says hopefully. "How's Tina holding up?"

"She's fine. But, I mean another witch. What are the chances of that?" Sam says with a frown.

Cass enters the room.

"So, where's the Blade?" Dean asks.

"Somewhere safe, "Cass says.

"Good," Dean says.

"Well, if you guys will excuse me, I think I'm going to sleep for about four days." Dean gets up from the table.

"Of course," Sam says, smiling a little.

Dean pats Cass's shoulder as he walks by.

Cass turns to look at Dean leave, then asks Sam, "How is he?"

"Sam?" Cass asks again.

"Cass, Dean's in trouble."


	2. The Things They Carried

**The Road So Far  
**

The Mark of Cain brings out violent urges, super-strength and speed and precognitive abilities in Dean, along with working to prevent Dean from dying. Recently, a witch transformed Dean into a 14-year old, removing the Mark of Cain. Dean used the hex bag to transform into his adult, Marked body to fight the witch. The hex bag was destroyed. Sam is determined to remove the Mark and wants to recreate the witch's hex bag. Cain, the original bearer of the Mark, began killing people and Dean fought him. During the fight, Cain tells Dean that the Mark curses Dean to kill those he thinks of as brothers: Crowley, Castiel, and Sam. Dean has given up on removing the Mark. Charlie is in Spain, tracking down a lead. Castiel is searching for his lost Grace.

**Season 10 Episode 15, The Things They Carried.**

**Fayetteville, North Carolina**

Water drips into a pan. A man's ugly, scarred, peeling face enters the water. He guzzles the liquid desperately.

A woman's long, dark, coarse, curly hair dangles from her head. She hangs upside-down from the ceiling.

A blurry, upside-down image of a man walks towards her. He is outlined against the light of a large bay window.

The woman's hands are tied with yellow zip ties. Muffled whimpers of terror escape her duct-taped mouth. She is a fit young woman dressed in gym shorts and a gray tank top. Her bare legs are scraped and she looks around in terror.

The scarred man walks down a hallway towards the woman. She sees his army pants and boots with blurry vision. He carries an old white paint bucket. In one hand, he carries two shock rods. The woman writhes and grunts, trying to headbutt the scarred man. He sets the paint bucket down. With a grunt, he takes one rod into each hand and stabs the woman with the prongs. Her body shakes, then goes limp. He lets go of the rods. They drop on the floor with a loud clatter. The scarred man braces her head against his knee. He draws a large knife and slashes her throat. Bright blood splatters into the white bucket. The man cups his left hand and catches the falling blood in his hand. Bending down, he drinks.

**The Bunker, Dean's Room**

Dean sleeps on top of the bed. Sam enters the room quietly. He stands over Dean. After a long moment, he reaches out and puts the back of his hand to Dean's forehead.

Dean rolls over in bed, slapping Sam's hand away and reaching out for a bottle as he wakes up.

Sam grabs the bottle and moves it out of reach, glaring at Dean. "Dean. We need to talk." Sam sits down on the bed.

Dean groggily sits up, staring at Sam.

"I'm not." Sam looks around, frustrated. "Look," Sam turns and grabs clumsily at Dean's wrist. Sam uses the touch with Dean to boost the remnants of his psychic abilities. "I'm not as sharp as I used to be." Sam looks at Dean. "After the trials and Gadreel. I can't … think as well. I don't know how we're going to make it through this."

"Sammy, we white-knuckled it through the Apocalypse, Eve, leviathans, an angel civil war…" Dean says, giving Sam a look.

Still, sepia images of Dean's fight with Cain flash through Sam's mind, flickering between the words of Sam and Dean's conversation. In Sam's mind, he sees Dean driving the first blade through Cain's back. Cain looks up, laughing wildly. Dean slips the blade out of Cain's back. Sam tightens his grip on Dean's wrist, preventing Dean from pulling away. Cain and Dean face each other. Cain speaks silently. Sam cannot hear the words.

"Shut up!" Sam bursts out.

Dean looks at Sam.

"I always used to have a plan or some idea of what we needed to do. Even if I didn't tell you about it. Now … I don't know," Sam rambles on as he watches the visions he's taking from Dean's memories.

In his mind, Sam watches as Cain takes the amputated stump of his hand. Cain stands up. He presses the hand back to the stump of his wrist, sealing his hand and arm together. Cain and Dean face other. Cain leans forward, "I forgive you." Cain disappears.

"What?" Dean stares at Sam, with a concerned look.

"Dean! I need you. I need you to be my big brother. I need to count on you. I'm not okay." Sam says, visibly upset.

In a vision, blood drips from Sam's forehead where Dean has shot him. Dean's hands flash to Sam's throat, crushing Sam's neck. Dean slams Sam onto the floor.

"You're not okay," Sam says.

Dean wrenches his wrist out of Sam's weakened grasp and stands up abruptly, hiding his face from Sam.

Sam gets up. Glaring at Dean, he says, "I brought Jacob back. Amy's son. He's been on the streets for the past three years. Where do you think he been getting pituitary glands from? Do you know how many homeless kids and just people he's killed?!" Sam pauses, "Why did you do it, Dean?" Sam begs Dean to give an explanation.

Dean only answers Sam with his silence.

Sam walks away, swinging the door shut behind him.

Dean turns around, a sick look on his face. He picks up his gun and walks towards the dungeon.

"Dean," Tina's light, childish voice calls out. Her eyes flick to the handle of Dean's gun, sticking out of the top of Dean's jeans.

"Tina." Dean turns around to face Tina. He forces a smile. "You ok?" he asks.

"Yeah. Sam rescued me." Tina's sick grimace matches Dean's face. "He killed a witch. Shot him. Burned him and my photo to break the spell keeping me inside. The building burned down. Four kids who were locked inside died there."

"Hah. That's a little rash for Sammy," Dean says by way of explanation. "Seeing Jacob ...," Dean stops. He looks at Tina's face. "Now that one hurts too much to talk about."

"Who are you Dean? It's like I walked into a nightmare," Tina says calmly.

"It's a long story," Dean says.

"I've got plenty of time and you've got plenty of whiskey," Tina retorts.

Dean tries to quirk a smile, "You're a little young for that now."

"Not for long," Tina says, her hand pressing on her stomach. "Sam ordered supplies on ebay to turn me back."

Dean looks at her. "You hungry?" he asks with concern.

"Haven't eaten since yesterday or the day before. Hard to tell time down here," Tina responds.

Dean frowns, his brows knotted. "C'mere. We got better than mac n cheese." Dean leads the way to the bunker's kitchen. He grabs a container from the counter and hands it to Tina.

Tina takes out a roughly cut bar cookie and bites down. "Mmm. What are these?"

"Banana granola cookie bars. Made em for Sam." Dean rummages through the fridge. He opens a tupperware container and recoils, putting it back in the fridge. "Been out on the road too much." Dean takes out eggs and cream. He sniffs the the cream. "Eggs and toast ok?"

"Mfff," Tina chews and swallows. "Eggs would be lovely, dad." She sits at the kitchen's small table.

Dean chuckles. He puts a pan on the stove, then cracks the eggs into a bowl.

"So, what the hell's going on?" Tina asks.

His back turned to her, Dean puts butter in the pan, then whisks the eggs. He puts two slices of bread into toaster. Ignoring Tina, Dean continues to cook with his back turned to her. He shakes the pan, pouring the egg mixture inside. He gets outs glasses, then takes out a lemon and cuts slices, adding the lemon slices to each glass. He pours water from a filtered pitcher into the glasses, then sets both glasses down on the small table. Returning to the stove, he flips the scrambled eggs.

Tina starts to talk while Dean cooks in the background. "I hooked up with three kids camping outside of Kennewick. Owen, Andrew, and Jacob. Owen saw me wandering around town. Came up to me. I bought em some food and he told me where they hide out and let me stay in their tent that night." Tina takes a sip of the lemon water. "Jacob didn't like me from the start. I wake up the next morning. This homeless guy who was hassling Owen the day before, he's dead and his throat's ripped out. It freaked me. Reminded me of ... you know ... you and Sam. Owen heard about this homeless shelter for teens up in Spokane. We go up there. In the morning, Jacob was gone. I looked around and saw kids locked into rooms. The symbol on the plastic ID tags they gave us when we checked in, it reminded me of the witch. After I called you, Mr. Connors locked me in a room, until Sam saved me." Tina looks up, blurry-eyed. "Owen and Andrew were in the other rooms."

Dean slides a plate with the scrambled egg and toast in front of Tina. He sits down in the other chair. "I'm sorry for your loss," he says flatly.

Tina nods slightly. She nibbles at the egg and toast, then takes a bigger bite. Even as she eats, her head droops a little, then comes up.

"Bedtime," Dean winks at Tina.

Tina looks at the food. "Do I get breakfast in bed?" she asks with a laugh in her voice.

Dean chuckles. His face twists in concern as Tina stumbles getting up, then holds the table to keep standing. Dean lifts Tina up. Her head nestles against his neck. He takes her to his room and pulls back the sheets. Sleepily, Tina pulls at her shoes, her head rolling a little. Dean helps her take off her shoes and jeans, then tucks her in.

"Hey, stay with me. I get nightmares," she says in a whisper.

Dean sits down on the bed. Tina curls up against his back under the covers. "Your turn for storytime."

"It's a long one. Started before we was born. You see, the angels messed with our mom and dad, made them fall in love, get together ... bred kids to be their vessels. Me for Michael, and Sammy for Lucifer..."

Tina breathes shallowly, her eyes closed. Her face is pale. Dean gets up, then turns off the light. He leaves the room and shuts the door quietly behind him.

Dean walks to the dungeon. Jacob is chained against the far wall of the dungeon. Three years have changed him. He is gangly and taller. His curly brown hair has grown out and surrounds his face. Dean pauses by the door, looking at this teenager who reminds him of Sammy.

Jacob's kitsune eyes see Dean clearly in the shadows by the door. His face twists in horror. His body freezes.

Dean walks close to the teen. He hesitates.

A long moment passes in silence. Jacob shivers in fear.

Dean looks at Jacob. "How long you been camping out?"

Jacob looks mutely at Dean. "Long enough," his voice cracks as he speaks.

"Didn't you say you had someone to go to?" Dean asks calmly.

Jacob shakes his head. The chain around his neck clinks.

Dean looks at him.

"You killed my mom," Jacob says.

Dean pauses. "I'm sorry for that."

Jacob glares at Dean, hatred distorting his face.

"Sammy said you been killing people."

Jacob doesn't answer.

"How many did you kill?"

"Enough. Only people who deserved it. Only if I had to." Jacob doesn't speak his other thoughts, that he'd killed the weak, homeless kids like himself when he had to, but maybe Dean can read those thoughts on his face.

"No one deserves to die," Dean looks at the teenager. "Or live." He reaches his hand out slowly towards Jacob.

"Why'd you do it?" Jacob asks quickly, his eyes riveted on Dean's eyes.

Dean pauses. He looks at Jacob. "Sammy … he lied to me … kept on lying to me. Everyone, Bobby, Cas. He lost his soul, let a vamp…"

"How is that .. how could he lose his soul?" Jacob interrupts.

Dean looks thoughtful. "A couple ways I know about, prolly more than that. Abaddon, a demon we killed, could harvest souls without taking the body. Sam lost his when an angel pulled him out of Hell and didn't get all of him. Only got the body, no Sammy conscience in there." Dean pauses.

"What's Hell like?" Jacob asks.

Dean looks at him. "Why do you wanna know?"

Jacob says, "Because I'll go there … when I die."

"Monsters go to Purgatory." Dean looks at Jacob. "You might like it there. It's clean. Killing, running, fighting. It's not so bad."

"Mom wouldn't like it there! She hated fighting and hurting people. She was good. She kept us safe. When Eve called, she didn't let me go," Jacob says with angry defiance.

Dean comments calmly, "She didn't seem the type to like it there. Sammy said she was good. We've given monsters a pass before … maybe I don't know why. Sammy was hallucinating, seeing Lucifer. I couldn't trust his word. If I just slipped a knife into her, it would be over, one thing less to worry about."

Jacob glares at Dean, his eyes full of hate. "You killed my mom so you could have one less thing to worry about! You're a monster, you're more a monster than me or my mom!" Jacob screams.

"Yeah I'm sorry. But monsters, humans… those are the rules, I'm not saying the rules are right. Heh," Dean grunts. Talking more to himself than to Jacob, he says, "If it went by right and not by rules, Sammy would be Michael's vessel, and I would be Lucifer's."

Jacob looks at Dean.

"You don't want to stay here."

"I'd rather die," Jacob says.

"Take care of your mom there. If you change your mind, 405 Maple Street, I'll bury your body there. There's a portal leading out of Purgatory. You can ride a human out." Dean traces a symbol on his arm, "Make a cut, the spell to get out is Anima corpori fuerit corpus totem resurgent. Might see you in there and not too long from now."

Jacob gives Dean a strange look. Dean leans close, whispering in Jacob's ear.

A flick of Dean's arm. Jacob's throat is in Dean's hand. Jacob's neck snaps. Dean holds on a long time. He unshackles the body and rolls it in a plastic tarp.

**The Bunker's Main Room**

Sam works at his laptop. Dean walks into the room carrying a large, plastic-wrapped body in his arms.

"What's going on with Tina?" Dean asks.

"She's sick, side effects from the transformation spell. The witch only intended the transformation to last long enough to slaughter her." Sam says with a frozen expression. "I might be able to modify it. Worst case, I can undo the spell."

"Huh. Yeah, well, I'm going for a drive. She's asleep in my room. You want anything from the store?" Dean asks.

Sam looks at the body-shaped bundle in Dean's arms. "No. Don't take too long. I found us a case," Sam looks back at his laptop screen.

"Fine," Dean says. Dean walks up the stairs with Jacob's body.

**Night, The Impala**

The Impala zooms down a dark country highway. Dean looks over to see Sam staring at his iphone.

"Hey, they caught the killer. Rick Willis. Set himself on fire. Poured gasoline all over himself then lit himself up," Sam says in a distant voice.

"Huh," Dean says. "What else does it say?"

Sam ignores Dean, his tired, baggy eyes on his phone.

"Sam. I know what you're doing. We are not harvesting the tender hearts of a loving mother and a newborn child born under a blue moon to remake that hex bag for a transformation spell. And even if we did, the spell goes wrong within weeks."

Sam glances up at Dean. "We could modify the spell, heart from a newborn calf ... we can test it. We could recast and undo the transformation. It would buy us time..." Sam pleads in an exhausted voice.

"Sam! We're on a job. Head in the game," Dean says.

Sam sighs.

**Fayetteville, North Carolina.  
**

A man slams shut the back doors to a white van, lettered with Fayetteville Pest Predators, Extermination Services. The white van drives off into the foggy, drizzly morning.

Dean glances at the white van, then walks down the busy downtown sidewalk to the Fayetteville Municipal Hall. Several of the pedestrians are dressed in military fatigues.

Dean walks into the building. Five people stand behind a reception desk, two are dressed in uniform. The counter is dominated by a clearly homemade chocolate cake, the filling oozing out the sides. A bald older man in uniform turns to look at Dean. In one hand, he holds a blue paper plate with the remains of cake on it.

"That's some fine looking cake," Dean says with a hopeful grin.

The man half-laughs. "No, it's mighty tasty, my partner made it," the nameless police officer says. "She put pie filling in the middle there. It's her secret ingredient."

Dean gives a silent, open-mouthed laugh in return. "Who's birthday is it?"

"Oh mine," the officer says. "Sixty years."

Dean grins, "You're looking mighty good," Dean says, his eyes on the cake. "Oh ... I'd love to have me a piece."

Smiling, the man says, "Now, I know you didn't come in here for cake." Dean's glance at the cake tells a different story. "What can I do for you?"

"Jackie Prescott," Dean says.

The man looks sad, "I'm sorry son, I can't..."

"Rick was a friend of mine. I just .. need to know what happened."

The officer hesitates. "Yeah, we wrapped it up. We had a manhunt going." The man shakes his head. "Special forces officer and no cooperation from the base, but then he committed suicide. Poured gasoline all over himself and lit himself on fire."

"Why'd he do a crazy thing like that?" Dean asks.

"Oh I don't know. I wasn't there. I heard his face was messed up, scarred, like he was in a bomb blast. Might have had a brain injury or PTSD. My partner says he wasn't crazy at all, he was doing what he needed to do, to stop himself. But ... " the man shrugs.

"This partner of yours, can I talk to her?"

"Oh, Cathy's out on patrol, won't be back for a few hours."

Dean hands him a business card. "If she'd give me call."

"Sure thing," the man says.

With a last glance at the cake, Dean walks away.

**A House in Fayetteville**

The Impala is parked outside a small house. Inside, a woman with long brown-blonde hair and carrying a bald, blue-eyed baby talks to Sam. "Rick did it. I'm not trying to say that he didn't. But. I mean. He just got back from deployment and we've all seen what it can do to a soldier's mind. My Rick, when he's home, he's a good person. I have to put the spiders outside you know." The woman sniffles as she speaks. "Rick was a kind soul. He never wanted to harm anybody."

"Did you um, notice anything strange or weird?" Sam asks.

"Rick was, he was so... He was thirsty," Rick's wife answers. "He drank from the garden hose. One night I caught him in the tub drinking the bathwater. When I told him to stop it was like he couldn't even hear me," she says with a grin made bizarre by her emotion. "And his skin, it got so dry it bled ... and his face peeled all over."

"Did you go see a doctor?" Sam asks.

"I made an appointment at the V.A., but he stopped talking and just wasn't himself. He wouldn't go. It just got worse and worse." She sniffles, looking at her baby. "I thought maybe it was a disease he caught over there," she sniffles tearfully, turning away from Sam as she begins to sob.

"Uh, I'm very sorry." Sam says in a quiet voice. "Do you have any idea where Rick was deployed last?"

The woman stands with her back turned to Sam, looking at the photos of her family on the refrigerator. "No, all of that is classified."

"Right. Well, um. If something comes up, anything at all, just give me a call." Sam says, pulling a business card out of his pocket.

"There's one other thing. My friend Jemma, she's married to Kit, a guy from Rick's team. She lives at 241 Cliffdale." the woman turns and looks at Sam steadily.

Sam nods. "Thank you," he says sincerely.

**241 Cliffdale Avenue**

The Impala pulls over next to a nice house on the busy road. The house number reads 241.

"I'm not talking about this with you, Dean." Sam says in an exhausted voice, as they get out of the car.

"Great, because I'm not doing it," Dean says steadily.

Sam glares at Dean's back.

At the porch, Dean waits for Sam to walk up, then knocks loudly on the door.

After a moment, the door swings open. A tall woman with long, dark hair opens the door a crack and sticks her head out, "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm Michael, my brother Rob, we're friends of Rick and Beth," Sam lies smoothly. Dean gives the woman a nod and a smile.

"Yeah, sure .. come on in," the woman says with a quizzical smile. Sam and Dean follow her into a clean, modern living room. "It's horrible to even think about Rick and that woman he murdered. She wasn't in his team. She'd just gotten transferred here. I don't think they even knew each other. Would you like anything to drink? I made some unsweetened iced tea."

"Yeah, thank you Rob would love some tea. Beth told us that you might know more about what happened ... we'd just feel better if we knew why," Sam lies smoothly.

"Well I don't know what i can tell you. Kit isn't home," the dark-haired woman says.

"How's Kit doing?" Sam asks.

Jemma walks away, pouring a glass of iced tea. "Kit's been going through some stuff. Um .. you know it takes him a while to get back to normal .. he always does." She hands Dean a glass, "Sorry, it's bitter without honey in it. I try not to use sugar, and we ran out of honey. Kit was going to pick some up at the store."

"And what about you? How are you holding up?" Dean asks, sipping at the cold, bitter tea.

"I'm okay .. for the most part. You know what happened to Rick and Beth. It's been hard." She glances at a framed wedding photo on the wall, one of many scattered around the living room. "There but for the grace of God, you know."

"When will Kit be back?" Sam asks politely.

The woman's face freezes. "He, um, he went out last night, but he should be back any minute." She sits down, and Sam and Dean follow her lead and sit down also. "You know, Kit, he comes back from these deployments and he needs his space."

"So he's been out all night?" Dean asks, a note of judgment in his voice.

"Well .. yeah," the woman sneers back.

Sam and Dean avoid glancing at each other.

"God .. I can't even convince myself. I'm worried. This isn't like him," she says suddenly.

"Has he ... been thirsty?" Sam asks.

"How did you know?" Jemma asks, looking at Sam sharply.

"Beth mentioned it, maybe something they both caught on their last deployment," Sam lies smoothly.

"OH, Oh well that makes sense. I always felt that Rick and Kit had a special bond. They're always together. Anything that happens to Rick and Kit is right there with him, you know."

"Did Kit mention anything unusual about their last deployment?" Sam asks.

"Oh, all of that is classified, but Kit was complaining about going into a cemetery. You know, Rick is really squeamish and sensitive especially for someone in well .." Jemma cuts herself off, "...something was upsetting him about the mission. Kit doesn't usually complain about things like this to me, but then Kit was starting to act strange and ..."

"Strange how?" Dean interrupts.

"I don't know, what do you mean by that?" Jemma pauses, looking at Dean.

"Do you have any idea where Kit could have gone?" Sam interrupts to ask, before Jemma has a moment to think.

"Well, whenever Kit is really upset which is hardly ever, you know, once in a blue moon type of thing, he goes out to his dad's old cabin. Usually he drives around or goes to visit Rick, except," Jemma's voice quivers. "Well .. another one of Kit and Rick's friends came to visit after Rick's funeral. He's really worried about it. He's a little intense, and has this ... strange obsession that Rick and Beth were helping him with, but he's still in town. He said he's not leaving until he's sure that Kit is doing okay... I should have thought to call him before now." Jemma glances around, then picks up her cell phone from the counter. "If you'll excuse me, just a minute," Jemma says.

**Outside the House**

Sam and Dean leave the house. Cole Trenton sits on the hood of the Impala. He slips his cell phone into his pocket. "Recognized your wheels," he says, patting the car arrogantly.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asks in a deliberately calm voice.

"Jemma called me. I've known Kit since we were military brats raisin hell on the same base, no way are you friends with Rick and Kit." Cole walks towards the brothers and faces them, crossing his arms across his chest. "Kit and Jemma are good people."

"No one's saying they're not." Dean answers calmly.

"Oh really now, so what - are you two here for Jemma's sweet tea? You want to tell me why you're really here?" Cole demands.

"That was some bitter iced tea since Kit went out last night and hasn't come back," Dean says calmly.

"Yeah, she just called me." Cole says, flexing his muscular arms held tightly across his chest. He looks at Dean, bracing himself, "What is it?"

Dean looks at Cole.

"Honestly, we're not sure just yet," Sam volunteers in a tired voice.

"Mm .. says you." Cole says challengingly.

"Look, we're not going anywhere and if you care about your buddy, you'll let us handle this." Sam says.

"Mm .. nah I think I'm gonna be coming with you." Cole says with cheerful arrogance.

"Oh the hell you are," Dean says.

"I got contacts ... I can help," Cole says, dangling his words in front of the brothers. "A friend of mine works military intelligence – owes me a favor." Cole says.

Sam glances at Dean, then looks at Cole. "Would he know what Rick and Kit's mission was?" Sam asks.

"Sure ... and I already asked him," Cole sneers.

"Okay, fine." Dean says.

"No, it ain't. You know I figure out what's going on here – I stick to you two like flies on roadkill – make sure my buddy comes home in one piece. I know what you two are thinking, you're not gonna hunt down my friend, who happens to be a friggin' war hero. We are going to find him and that's the difference," Cole rambles on agitatedly.

The front door opens suddenly. "Hey, Cole, uh," Jemma calls out. She looks at the three men. "Would you like to come inside? I have some more iced tea."

Sam gives Jemma a small smile, "Sure, we'd love to." He turns and walks into the house. Dean walks in without looking at Cole's tense face. Cole follows them inside and Jemma shuts the door.

"Please, have a seat," she says into the awkward silence. Cole leans against an arm of the sofa, while Sam and Dean sit down. Jemma pours more bitter iced tea into glasses.

"What's going on?" she asks, as she hands out the glasses.

Cole answers, "Jem, look, you remember Rick and Beth were helping me," Cole glances significantly at Dean.

Jemma glances at Dean.

"Well, they think Kit and Rick were involved with something .. you know ..." Cole smacks his leg nervously. "I know you don't believe me Jem, but those things are real. These guys .. they ain't FBI agents or whatever they told you ..."

Dean looks calmly at Jemma. Sam flicks a tired gaze between Cole and Jemma.

"Yeah ... I know," Jemma says in a slightly hesitant voice. "I called Beth and she told me that Michael visited her," she says, glancing at Sam.

"His name's Sam. It's not Michael." Cole says aggressively.

"Yeah..." Jemma looks down nervously, then glances over the men sitting in her living room. "Beth called the police officer who was working on Rick's case. A guy was at City Hall today, asking questions about the murder," she looks at Dean.

Dean looks up at Jemma, "Was the officer Cathy?"

Jemma nods hesitantly at Dean, "Yes .. maybe. If it is a ... monster ... what is it?"

Dean looks at Jemma as he answers, "Rick killed himself with fire."

Sam flicks Dean a glance.

"And they're both thirsty," Sam adds. "It's not much to go on." Sam looks earnestly at Jemma, "If we could talk to Kit, that would help a lot. We might be able to track his cell phone if you have his login..."

"Uh .. yeah ..., that's a great idea ..." Jemma hesitates, looking at Sam, then glancing over Cole and Dean.

Dean looks at Jemma and sips from his glass of unsweetened ice tea. Jemma looks at the glass of tea that is missing the honey that Kit went out for last night. "Yeah, here ...," Jemma picks up a small laptop from a table and sits down beside Sam, flipping the laptop open.

A cell phone buzzes in Cole's pocket. "There we go," he says, opening up his email. "I got an email here from my friend .. Kit and Rick were sent to rescue an American P.O.W. being held in Iraq in the Najaf Cemetery. Got some footage here from Rick's helmet cam."

A blurry, green-tinged video plays. Sam and Jemma look over from their laptops as Cole holds out his cell phone. Two soldiers walk down a corridor. The lights on their weapons are bright green beams moving over the scene. They fire. "Down, get down!" More gunfire as they reach an intersection. Blurry human figures fall. "Clear! Major Matt Jones! Hey, right here. Hey, Major Jones, is that you? Hey. Hey I'm Captain Kit Verson. We're here to bring you home." A man sits with his back turned to Kit. The man screams. Yelling, he whirls and lunges at Kit. He slams Kit's body across a tombstone. The man bends over Kit. "Aaaagh!" A muffled scream comes from Kit's mouth. The camera jerks as Rick runs forward. Out of view of the camera, Kit shouts, "What the hell! What the hell was that?" The face of the screaming man looms in the helmet camera, his mouth open wide. The video ends.

"Official story is the P.O.W. was shot by enemy combatants during the mission," Cole says.

"Huh," Sam mutters disbelievingly. He looks at his laptop. "Kit's moving, slowly, like he's on foot."

Jemma huddles next to Sam, looking at his laptop screen. She is trembling slightly, her hand covering her mouth, glassy-eyed. "He's close to his dad's old cabin by Uwharrie. It's an hour and a half drive from here. Cole, could I get a ride with you?"

"Yeah, o' course, Jem..." Cole starts to say.

"No, no ..." Dean says quickly, getting up. "It's dangerous. We still don't know what it is..."

Jemma's clear voice cuts across Dean's words, "I'm not leaving Kit out there. Haven't you seen this before?"

Sam and Dean glance at each other, then look at Cole and Jemma.

"Whatever it is, Rick killed himself to stop it. We'll know when we get in there." Dean says.

"Get in there, like kill him," Cole says.

"Yes, kill him, because that's the safest way, stop him before whatever monster or curse or whatever the hell it is takes over and he kills someone he really don't want to," Dean says.

Sam doesn't look at Jemma.

"He's my husband. We know each other. He won't .. he won't attack me. I know him. I can help and this craziness will be .. in the past. If there's a cure or any chance that he could be saved ... how can I give up that hope for him?" Jemma pleads with Dean. "Please .. I'm not going to leave him out there alone."

"Dean," Sam says, looking up with his pleading little brother face.

**A Forested Road**

Cole drives up to a dark cabin, Jemma is in the passenger seat of the jeep. He parks his jeep and gets out. They look at each other. Jemma stays in the car as Cole gets out.

Cole walks up to the cabin. He knocks. No one answers. Cole opens the door of the cabin. He calls out, "Hey Kit, are you here? It's Cole."

Behind him, he hears the sounds of the jeep's door opening and closing.

Cole's eyes sweep over dessicated dead rats and a squirrel lying on the floor. His footsteps echo loudly on the wooden floor. Cole opens a door to a small room in the cabin. Kit is sitting on a chair, hunched over, facing away from Cole. Kit coughs quietly, doubled over, his arms pressing into his belly.

Outside the cabin, Dean looks in through the front door.

"Hey Kit. Hey," Cole touches Kit's shoulder. Kit spins around, his face distorted and scarred as he looks at Cole.

"I am sorry. I can't stop myself." Kit says in a robot-like voice. He tackles Cole and they fall onto the floor. A worm slips out of Kit's mouth and falls onto Cole's face.

"Ungh!" Cole grunts a scream, his terrified face is distorted as the worm slips into his mouth.

A second worm slips out of Kit's mouth.

Thunk. The tip of Dean's knife misses the worm as it slithers away rapidly. Sam's legs scrabble on the floor. Sam's boot smashes the worm.

Kit runs for the cabin door, boots echoing loudly on the floor.

Jemma runs to Kit, hugging him, pressing her face into his chest.

"Cover your mouth!" Dean shouts.

Kit twists his face away from Jemma. Sam's long arm snakes around Kit's neck, lifting the man off his feet. Kit chokes.

"Leggo .. Jemma," Sam pants.

Dean roughly peels Jemma away from Kit. He shoots Kit with a taser. Kit's body stiffens and Sam lowers him to the floor. Sam and Dean tie up Kit, covering his mouth with duct tape. Jemma watches, her hands over her mouth.

Dean turns on a lamp as Cole coughs and gags on the floor.

"Something went down my throat," Cole says in a thick voice.

"All right Cole, just try and stay calm," Dean says calmly.

"Oh god, something just moved. It's alive," Cole says, his eyes rolling.

"We're gonna get it out of you," Dean says firmly.

"How!" Cole yells, grabbing at his chest and abdomen.

"We'll figure it out," Dean says. "Looked half like a khan worm," he says, glancing at Sam.

Sam holds Jemma as she shakes, looking between Kit and Cole. Sam holds her back from touching Kit. "Not, it's safer not to touch him. It looks like it goes in from the mouth, but we can't be sure."

"What's a khan worm?" Cole asks.

"Four years back, we tracked the trail of a monster to a cannery. This worm .. it went in through the ear and … it was freakin awful. Took control of our bodies, pretended to be us. Gwen and Rufus died." Dean says flatly.

"Alright, so you been to this rodeo before. How do we kill it?" Cole asks.

"Last time, electrocution made the worm leave the body," Dean says.

"Alright, fine, electrocution it is. I'm game," Cole says. "Hell, I have a wife, a kid, and an upside-down mortgage to get back to. Whatever it takes, Dean-o," Cole says.

"Okay," Dean says, looking at Cole.

Cole sits on the floor in a small room hastily cleared of other furnishings. He leans back against a wall. Sam holds Jemma by the shoulders as she watches Kit and Cole.

Dean shuts the door.

"So, last time you saw this thing, it turned people into killers too?" Cole asks.

"Yeah. It did a mind-control number on us ... no memory of what we'd done once it was out. The suckers moved a lot faster than these worms. Left black ectoplasm in the ear," Dean says.

"Damn," Cole takes a deep breath, scooting forward until he lies flat on his back. "Do it."

Dean fires the taser at Cole. The taser crackles and Cole's body shivers, "Uugh," Cole grunts in pain. Seconds count down on the taser .. 25 .. 24 .. 23 ... "Uung," Cole moans and grunts in pain. The taser counts down ...1.

Nothing happens. Dean stares at Cole's body.

"Freakin', that sucker should have crawled out by now," Dean mumbles to himself.

Cole wakes up. "Anything?" he mumbles in a hoarse, slurred voice.

"I'm not seeing anything yet," Dean growls.

"What?" Cole asks, disoriented.

"I'm not seeing anything yet," Dean repeats.

"Do it again," Cole says.

Dean looks at Cole.

"Again," Cole says. "Again!" Cole yells.

Dean shocks Cole again. Cole's face turn red and he seems to lose consciousness. Dean grabs Cole's head and slaps Cole's cheeks. Cole shivers and opens his eyes.

"Hey! Hey okay," Cole says, waking up suddenly. "Hey, all right, again, do it again," Cole says in a rough voice.

"No, we're done playing Operation. It's not working," Dean says. "Keep your head in the game. What do we know about this thing?"

"Sucker dries you out," Cole says. "I'm thirsty already, man."

"It needs water," Dean says.

"Rick drank blood from the vic he killed," Sam says.

"Huh, then burned himself alive. So, it's like a parasite. Drinks you dry, breeds in there, and then moves on," Dean extrapolates.

"So if I dry myself out, son of a bitch wouldn't like that very much, would he?" Cole says.

"No, it wouldn't," Dean says. "What do you think about rapid dehydration?" Dean asks.

"Big fan," Cole bluffs hoarsely. "Just make sure you squash that thing when it comes out."

Kit struggles on the floor. "Dean," Sam says. Dean tosses Sam the taser. Sam changes out the battery and stuns Kit again.

"Okay, we're on the clock," Dean says.

Cole says, "I can take it. Do it."

"Good." Dean draws a large knife and drives the tip of the blade into Cole's arm, then takes it out. Dark liquid oozes out and falls onto the wooden floor. Dean jiggles the wound to keep the blood flowing.

"Hnggg," Cole looks up at Dean. His eyes change. Bloody cracks are visible in the skin on the side of his face. "My dad, he got something inside him, too, right? You think this is what he felt like when he turned?"

"Maybe," Dean growls, crouching beside Cole. "He was human before he was a monster."

"I get it," Cole says. "Why you did it Dean. My dad ... wasn't my dad anymore." Cole pauses, looking at Dean. "All I can think about is slicing you up and drinking you like a fountain. Guess that makes me a monster too, don't it," Cole laughs and sobs in a choked voice.

"Listen to me," Dean says quickly. "You can fight this. Think about your family, hmm? Your wife, your kid. You hear me?" Dean deepens the deep cut in Cole's arm, eyeing the pool of spilled blood around Cole.

Cole gasps in a choked voice, "I ... appreciate ... the talk .. coach, unggggg!" Cole's throat ripples slowly upward with the movement of the worm. Cole's mouth slowly forces itself wide open. A khan worm surrounded by ectoplasm wriggles, its glistening pincers opening and closing in the air. Standing, Dean grabs Cole by the collar and drags Cole so his open mouth is over clear floorspace. The worm drops onto the wooden floor. Dean's boot smashes it.

"Bleurk," Cole braces himself on his knees and one arm. He coughs out ectoplasm, gagging and spitting.

Dean takes out a sewing needle, dental floss, and a flask of whiskey. In the room behind him, Jemma gets up and rummages through Cole's backpack.

Cole spits out a last mouthful of ectoplasm. Dean crouches by Cole and snaps off a piece of dental floss. Cole looks at Dean's version of medical supplies. "No! ... no. Get me my medical kit," Cole says.

"I can do that," Jemma says, already at Kit's side. "Please, take care of Kit." She opens up the medical kit.

Dean nods at her, then wipes off his blade. "Ready?" he asks Sam.

Sam holds Kit's trussed up body by the head. "Yeah." Sam turns Kit's face to the floor, then rips off the duct tape. Ectoplasms drips from Kit's mouth. Dean stabs Kit's wrist.  
Kit's cracked, bleeding face is impassive. Blood joins the ectoplasm on the floor.

"Don't ... stop," Kit grunts. A few long moments later, a khan worm protrudes from Kit's mouth, surrounded by greenish ectoplasm. Dean flicks the worm out with the tip of his knife. His boot smashes the worm.

**241 Cliffdale Ave  
**

Sam, Cole, Jemma, and Beth sit in Jemma's living room. Dean leans against a wall, Beth's baby in one arm and a bottle in the other hand. Sam speaks quietly, "I uh, for what it's worth, I really wish it hadn't ended this way."

"Yeah, me too Sammy boy. I guess I seen it all now. I just wanna go home, see my family. Soon as Kit's funeral is done and over," Cole rambles on. "I hope I never see you two again."

Sam smiles wryly.

"No offense," Cole says.

"None taken," Dean interjects, to prevent Sam from answering. Looking at Jemma, Dean asks, "You going to be okay?"

Beth wraps her arm around Jemma's shoulder. Jemma looks up at Dean, "As much as I can be. Thank you .. for trying to save Kit." Jemma sobs. Beth hugs Jemma.

The baby starts to cry. "Here," Beth says, arms reaching up to Dean to take her baby. Dean walks over and gently hands Beth the baby. Jemma dabs away the tears running down her face.

Dean looks at Sam. Sam gets up, saying, "If anything happens, give us a call okay?"

"Of course, thank you," Jemma says in a choked voice. "Take care, have a safe drive," she says.

Cole stands up, he holds out his hand to Dean. They shake, and Dean pats Cole on the shoulder as they turn away.

Sam and Dean walk to the Impala and get inside. Sam grimaces.

"Don't blame yourself for Kit," Dean says, looking at Sam. "Sometimes, no matter what you do, people die. We only the best we can, with whatever we got."

Sam doesn't answer.

"What, that's not it?" Dean looks at Sam.

"No. It's nothing," Sam answers.

"What .. come on." Dean grumbles impatiently.

"You sure bonded with Cole," Sam says in an annoyed voice.

"Is that what's bothering you?" Dean asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

"Hey, he only tried to kill you," Sam says, covering up his main reason.

"Plenty of people have tried to kill me. Come on, we don't have to hold it against him. He thought I murdered his father, which I did when his father turned. It's not like I stopped to explain. I got the hell out of there as soon as he was dead," Dean says.

"Huh. Yeah ... he wouldn't listen when I tried." Sam says. "My shoulder still aches from when ... nevermind," Sam cuts himself off.

"What did he do to you?" Dean demands.

"It's nothing. I'm fine. Just tired," Sam gestures at the road.

Dean starts to open the car door. Sam taps Dean's chest with the back of his hand. "Really, it's fine." Sam gives Dean a look.

Dean looks at Sam. He shuts the door. "Bitch."

"Jerk," Sam answers.

Dean starts the car and they drive off.

**Authors Note:**

I made the characters more heroic in general. Fluffed out the episode with Sam and Dean dialogue. Tried to do a build-up of clues and activity to make the action feel continuous. Please let me know what you think. Hope the Season 1 style Dean subtext and pie running gag are funny.


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